Chapter 12: There Will Always Be a Butterfly Flapping Its Wings
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 12: There Will Always Be a Butterfly Flapping Its Wings
"You—"
The teacup in Celicia’s hand instantly shattered into icy shards. Eerie blue frost spread rapidly from beneath her feet, and a terrifying chill enveloped the entire room in a mere heartbeat.
The aura of death brushed tangibly against Muen’s heart.
Muen gritted his teeth, forcing down the primal urge to let his body tremble.
Fortunately, for once, heaven was on his side.
Celicia suddenly staggered.
The frost, which was more than capable of turning Muen into a human popsicle in an instant, stopped just a single step away from him, unable to advance even a fraction further.
"Despicable..."
Celicia’s icy eyes glared at Muen with bitter resentment and a trace of unwilling frustration. In the end, however, she could do nothing. Under the potency of the drug, her body went limp, and she collapsed to the floor.
"Phew."
As the killing intent dissipated, Muen finally let out a long sigh of relief, though a lingering shadow of fear remained in his eyes.
"As expected of Celicia."
If the drug had taken effect just two or three seconds later, she probably would have killed him without a moment's hesitation.
"But no matter what, I’m the one who won in the end."
The joy of surviving a brush with death bubbled up inside him.
"Do you even understand the underhandedness of a modern-day wage slave? Do you have any idea how much weight my 'deceptive maneuvers' carry from years of navigating the corporate banquet table?"
He had indeed been pushed to the brink by a Celicia who was far more cautious than he had imagined. But what Celicia never expected was that both cups of black tea had been drugged!
Muen had been gambling—gambling that once Celicia saw him drink the tea first, she would temporarily lower her guard.
Fortunately, he won the bet.
"I also have to thank the innkeeper for such potent stuff. It really is a 'one-touch-and-out' deal!"
Expensive things were expensive for a reason; it was well worth the price of one hundred and thirty thousand Emiels! If he had any similar needs in the future, he’d definitely give the innkeeper more business.
"Now then, for the main event."
Looking at the unconscious and defenseless Celicia, Muen couldn't help but feel a surge of nervousness again.
But having come this far, the arrow was already on the string. There was no turning back.
...
The flames in the fireplace flickered, and warmth gradually returned to the room.
Muen leaned down and carried Celicia over to the sofa.
As for why it wasn't the bed... inviting Celicia to a private room with a bed would have been an obvious red flag to anyone with a brain.
Luckily, the sofas in the Duke's estate were large enough.
"So, what should I do next?"
"I remember in the original novel, Muen Campbell was caught by the protagonist just as he was taking off Celicia’s clothes."
Muen glanced at the door.
In the original book, that idiot host hadn't even thought to lock the door while doing such a thing. That was why the protagonist, who had stumbled her way here, was able to simply push the door open and see Muen Campbell attempting to violate Celicia.
"Since that’s how the original plot went..."
"A play must be performed to the end. Here goes nothing!"
Gazing at the sleeping Celicia, Muen’s throat felt dry.
This was likely Celicia at her most vulnerable. The icy aura surrounding her had long since vanished, replaced by a faint fragrance that drifted into Muen’s nose, teasing his wavering rationality.
Celicia’s white formal dress was simple and elegant, yet it only served to highlight her cold, captivating beauty.
"See no evil, touch no evil... but I have no choice. My apologies."
Muen muttered a few apologetic words, then slowly reached out with trembling hands. He gently propped up Celicia’s light frame and felt for the zipper at the back of her dress.
His hands weren't quite cooperating. It took several attempts before he finally located the zipper.
Zzzzip—
Accompanied by the clear sound of the zipper sliding down, Muen’s heart skipped several beats.
He swallowed hard, his hands still shaking as he gripped the dress straps on Celicia’s porcelain-white shoulders.
Then, slowly, very slowly, he brushed them down to the sides of her arms.
Her skin was incredibly smooth, reminiscent of white silk ribbons floating on milk.
Celicia’s impressive bust proved its worth at this moment; even with both straps down, the dress remained firmly in place, guarding the most critical areas.
Left with no choice, Muen extended his index finger, hooked the front of the white dress, and slowly pulled it downward.
Thus, a deep cleavage was revealed, and the rounded curves of her breasts began to emerge like a pale moon from behind clouds.
It wasn't until the white lace of her undergarments was halfway exposed that Muen reluctantly withdrew his hand.
"This... should be enough."
Disheveled clothes, exposed cleavage—no matter how you looked at it, this didn't look like a normal conversation.
Muen glanced at the closed door.
The protagonist had not appeared.
"Is it still not enough?"
Muen thought for a moment, then stripped off his own heavy, twenty-kilogram formal jacket, revealing a reasonably fit and toned upper body. He then braced his hands on the sofa, hovering over Celicia.
Though there was no actual physical contact, the posture would look extremely suggestive to any observer.
In a "Soaring Phoenix" novel, this level of ambiguity was enough to make readers post thousands of angry comments; it was practically a "landmine" scenario.
If someone didn't come to the rescue soon, it would be quite rude!
But...
The protagonist still didn't appear.
"Is the timing wrong? Do I need to wait a bit longer?"
With that thought, Muen remained frozen in that position, quietly watching the minutes and seconds tick by.
Three minutes...
Ten minutes...
Half an hour!
"What the hell!"
Muen, whose arms were now aching intensely, finally broke down.
"Protagonist, what on earth are you doing?! The female lead is lying right under me, at my mercy! Come and save her already! This is more than enough time to have done anything!"
Yet, despite his internal screaming, the protagonist Ariel—Celicia’s savior—showed no sign of appearing.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Muen began to recount his actions today.
First, inviting Celicia to a private room. The room was definitely correct, as this plan had been in the original Muen Campbell’s head for a long time; the room was prepared in advance, so it couldn't be different from the one in the book.
Then, drugging Celicia.
That was definitely successful, as Celicia was currently lying right beneath him.
Finally...
The protagonist was supposed to have her dress stained by a clumsy maid who accidentally spilled red wine. She would then go looking for a washroom alone, but because she had no sense of direction, she would get lost, find this room, and stumble upon Muen Campbell’s villainy.
But why hadn't she shown up? Was she that lost?
Wait.
A clumsy maid?
Muen suddenly noticed a crucial detail.
The maids of the Duke's estate were always highly trained. They could carry crystal flutes across a tightrope without a hitch. How could the word "clumsy" ever apply to them?
Not to mention the sheer disrespect of spilling wine on a guest! If that actually happened, the Head Maid would have to resign in shame!
Unless...
The maid spilling the wine wasn't due to clumsiness at all.
It was because...
She was sick.
Right, the original maid must have made that small mistake because she was feeling unwell!
And where was that maid, the one who was supposed to trigger the plot?
She was resting.
Because of Muen’s direct order, she was resting.
She couldn't possibly appear at the banquet tonight, and she couldn't possibly "accidentally" spill red wine on the protagonist’s dress.
Which meant...
The protagonist might not show up at all.